Spacebar Gaiden
by Jemu Nekketsu
Summary: Spacebar Sidestories! Like anyone reads the main stories...


Spacebar Gaiden1: Fatality/Finality?  
  
by Jemu Nekketsu  
  
Standard disclaimers apply. I do not own Sakura Taisen nor Ruroni Kenshin.  
  
Ichiro was about to flop down on his bed after a hard day's  
  
training when something on the balcony caught his eye. It was a  
  
little black bird with beady eyes and a flame-red beak. Its carnelian  
  
eyes were staring at him intently.  
  
"Shoo, bird, go away. No food for you here."  
  
"Caw, caw."  
  
"I said go, featherbrain! Or do you want the dog to smell  
  
you?"  
  
"Caw, caw caw!"  
  
"Have it your way, then. Don't blame me if something untoward  
  
happens to you."  
  
"Don't worry, Mr. Ohgami. I take full responsibility for the  
  
unfortunate consequences of my actions. I always have. Well, most of  
  
the time anyway."  
  
Ichiro sat bolt upright on the bed. That voice was very  
  
familiar! "You a demon?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"You dead, and came back for revenge?"  
  
"I did die, but I'm not vengeful," replied the bird, pecking  
  
at its left wing tip.  
  
"Your voice does seem like I've heard it before..."  
  
"Good. I'll give you a clue: we've worked together before."  
  
"In a fanfic? Boy, that sure narrows matters a lot."  
  
"Here's another clue: look under your sheets."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"You know, that fabric that you were about to send your bulk  
  
down on? Lift it and see what lies beneath."  
  
"Fine, I'll humor you," Ichiro replied, catching a corner of  
  
the sheet and pulling on it. "There's nothing underneath the- HOLY  
  
PANTHEON OF DEITIES!"  
  
"Shhh. Quiet, now. We wouldn't want this samurai girl to wake  
  
up and discover you staring at her in her bedclothes, would we?"  
  
"Bu- Ai- This is my bedroom!"  
  
The woman on the bed turned, facing toward the window. As she  
  
did, her lustrous black hair fell over the side of her face,  
  
concealing it. The fibers gleamed blue-black in the rapidly  
  
approaching gloom.  
  
"Ready to guess who I am, now?"  
  
"Jemu."  
  
The bird bobbed its head up and down, hopped down to the  
  
floor of the room, and metamorphosed quietly into a man wearing a  
  
bartender's outfit. Quietly, as in no bells, whistles, silhouettes,  
  
flash, and noise. Jemu put his finger over his lips in the universal  
  
gesture of silence.  
  
"Hello, Lieutenant."  
  
"Hello, twisted sicko."  
  
"Thanks. I've been called worse, by more simple-minded  
  
people. So, you ready for more work again? With me, of course."  
  
"Explain first," Ichiro whispered fiercely, jabbing an index  
  
finger at the bed.  
  
"You were so drunk you couldn't remember?! Zounds! Here's a  
  
recap: there was a party, champagne was flooding, enough of it to  
  
send the Parisiennes back to France if they wanted to do so. Everyone  
  
was soused, except for old Yoneda and those three bridge bunnies of  
  
the Shogeimaru. You decided to hit the sack, and threw yourself into  
  
bed like you almost did earlier. Unfortunately, someone who we shall  
  
describe as a samurai girl was already en deshabille and sleeping the  
  
effects of the alcohol off in the nearest bed she could stumble onto  
  
in her drunken state."  
  
"I what?!"  
  
"Wait, there's more. So, you dive in, get your fall broken  
  
beautifully, and samurai girl screams bloody murder. You tried to get  
  
up, but your energy reserves are pfft and then everyone in the party  
  
is crowding into the room screaming all sorts of things  
  
like 'pervert' and 'sex maniac' and 'rapist'. Did I mention you  
  
didn't pass out, but even managed to muffle her cries with your  
  
mouth?"  
  
"I don't believe this! I thought I spent all my reserves!"  
  
"It's called adrenalin, Ohgami. Anyway, old man Yoneda drops  
  
a big bomb on everyone then. He goes, 'It's okay, they're engaged to  
  
be married anyway.'"  
  
"Hah! Now I know you lie! If everyone believed him, why am I  
  
alive right now? I'd have been ripped to shreds by rabid Defenders of  
  
Sakura's Chastity club members, among other rabid fanboy groups."  
  
"Think, man! You've got a place in her, here," Jemu said,  
  
pointing to where his heart ought to be, "And something tells me  
  
she'll be real upset if you kick the bucket, and that's something  
  
those fanboys won't want to happen, ne?"  
  
"I think she'd be more upset upon learning that she'd been  
  
bamboozled into being engaged to me."  
  
"Wow, this is a deaprture."  
  
"What is?"  
  
"That characters are actually second-guessing their  
  
directors."  
  
"Welcome to the 20th century, bub."  
  
"Piffle. Still, being a director, I know what you're  
  
thinking."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"You're thinking that the person on your bed is not our  
  
favorite samurai girl, right? Go ahead, take one of her hands. Feel  
  
the calluses from holding a sword for years. Don't worry, as your  
  
director, I can promise you she won't wake up if you touch her."  
  
"You've also lied to me-"  
  
"With your best interests at heart. Now, go and touch her."  
  
Warily approaching the bed, cursing as his toe stubbed the  
  
foot of the bed, he leaned over and reached for the girl's hand. His  
  
hand met an elbow instead, so he decided to follow the contours until  
  
he got to the palm.  
  
"Nice tactic, Ichiro. No wonder you made the grade."  
  
Her palm, indeed, was callused. Yet, it was still pliant. He  
  
knew he had similar calluses on his own palm, formed by demanding  
  
saber drills on board ship. That was a long time ago. Shaking his  
  
head, he brushed the memory away.  
  
"Well, what more proof do you need? See the hair? The radiant  
  
skin, even in the darkness-" Jemu's voice rose hysterically as he  
  
spoke.  
  
"Shh!" Ichiro turned to shush him. Too late, though.  
  
"That unmistakable long-haired profile that  
  
screams 'swordswoman' when sitting up with hair unbound like just  
  
now!? What more?!"  
  
Ichiro froze, and turned around slowly, expecting a death-  
  
blow from a baka-mallet. He knew from experience, that a director was  
  
either immune to them or went invisible when one was summoned in his  
  
presence, leaving only the actors as targets. And he also knew that  
  
baka-mallets did not miss.  
  
Halfway through his turn, he felt hands and arms go around  
  
him. But instead of his neck, they wove around his waist and he felt  
  
a face try to burrow into the back of his shirt. He relaxed.  
  
"So, Ichiro, what do you say? Another collaboration with me?"  
  
"One condition - no more blackmailing for sex."  
  
"Okay, I can handle that. Any other conditions you want in  
  
your contract?"  
  
"No magical girl outfits on anyone."  
  
"What have you been reading? Oh, alright, fine."  
  
Ichiro was about to dictate another condition when the door  
  
flew open and Sakura rushed into the room. "Ohgami-san, it's time for-  
  
oh, I didn't know you had company!"  
  
"Good evening, Shinguji-san," Jemu greeted, making an  
  
elaborate bow.  
  
"Oh, hello there, Jemu-san," Sakura greeted back. "Why are  
  
you standing in front of Ohgami-san's bed?"  
  
"Well, I have no reason not to. After all, it's not like I'm  
  
hiding the sight of some other woman wrapped around your wonderful  
  
CO, no?"  
  
Sakura's eyebrows drew together, and Ichiro heard the near  
  
silent hiss of a blade being unsheathed. He also heard Jemu  
  
say, "Well, if you're going to behave like that, I'll just go stand  
  
by the window, then. I had no idea you were so jealous and  
  
possessive."  
  
Oh, crap, Ichiro thought, I know what it looks like I'm  
  
doing, and explaining won't save me. Acting like the lightning that  
  
was his element, Ichiro threw off the woman's embrace and flew out of  
  
the window. A flash of light, which had Sakura and the other woman on  
  
the bed shielding their eyes, and a low rolling of thunder followed.  
  
"Don't worry, Shinguji-san, no storms tonight."  
  
"How did you guess- oh. You're a director. I forgot about  
  
that. But who's she?"  
  
"Shinguji Sakura, may I present to you Kamiya Kaoru. Like  
  
you, she also grew up around a sword, or in her case, a sword school."  
  
"Good evening," Kaoru tightened her robe, and bowed. Sakura  
  
returned the greeting and gesture.  
  
Jemu rushed in before Sakura's brain could go into  
  
overdrive. "Sorry about her appearance. See, I was wandering a few  
  
years earlier, and I heard her say she wanted to see what a city  
  
after the Meiji restoration looked like. I told her that I could  
  
arrange for it if she gave me a little something for lunch. She  
  
agreed, took me to her family's dojo, fed me, and insisted that her  
  
friends come along with her."  
  
Kaoru took over. "He said it was alright, that it was no  
  
strain on his resources."  
  
"But it was a strain on yours. So, when I tried to boson jump  
  
to Ichiro's room and surprise him with a prank, Kaoru accidentally  
  
got sucked in by my gate."  
  
"Worse, I passed out. But really, I'm much tougher than that,  
  
honest. I hope you don't mind, though."  
  
"No, I don't. Speaking of which, did anyone of you see Ohgami-  
  
san?"  
  
"Uh, no," Jemu lied through his teeth. "I wanted to surprise  
  
him, but, well..."  
  
"Ah, too bad, ne? So, Jemu-san, why were you blocking me from  
  
the view of Ohgami-san's bed earlier?" Sakura asked nonchalantly. A  
  
little too nonchalantly, perhaps.  
  
"Ano, I'm just a visitor here, but could we talk later after  
  
I've got some decent clothes on?" Kaoru asked politely.  
  
"Um, I better find Kaoru's party and tell them where she is.  
  
Before they tear up the town looking for her." So saying, Jemu  
  
morphed and flew off.  
  
"Party?" Sakura asked.  
  
"Oh, just one of my students, and a couple of homeless bums  
  
who've saved my skin from time to time. Not that I needed it, you  
  
understand," Kaoru explained as she pulled on her kimono and tied up  
  
her hair. "Men are funny at times, aren't they?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess you could say that."  
  
Another flash of light, and Jemu reappeared, this time with  
  
Ichiro; tall, lean spiky-haired guy; a spiky-haired young man; and a  
  
red-haired man who kept his hair in a ponytail.  
  
"Whoa, that's what I call fast travel," quipped the tall guy.  
  
"Yeah. Say, Kenshin, where are we?" asked the young man.  
  
The one with red hair, the one called Kenshin by the younger  
  
one, replied "Oro? Sano," Kenshin said, turning to the taller  
  
man, "Am I just hungry, or is there two of Kaoru in here?"  
  
"Beats me, Kenshin. But I agree with you, or rather," Sano's  
  
stomach let a out a loud rumble, "My tummy does. Let's go find a  
  
restaurant."  
  
"Preferably one where Sano can bluster his way out of  
  
paying," the young man grinned.  
  
"Shut up, Yahiko! I haven't been doing that for a time!"  
  
"Mind your manners, you two! We're guests here, and uninvited  
  
ones at that!" Kaoru rebuked the two. Immediately Yahiko and Sano  
  
straightened and turned their backs on each other.  
  
"Kamiya-san, why don't you and your friends stay for dinner?  
  
Oh, you can come along too, Jemu-san."  
  
"Nah, I've other things to attend to. I'll just have a meal  
  
in town; thanks for the offer, though. You can try to feed these  
  
three bottomless pits, though."  
  
"HEY!!!!"  
  
Kenshin did a quick iaijitsu stance as Sano and Yahiko jumped  
  
Jemu. Unfortunately, Jemu didn't bother to morph into bird mode, he  
  
just gated away, with Sano and Yahiko landing in a heap on the floor.  
  
"Your friends seem to be pretty active for hungry people,"  
  
Ichiro commented to Kenshin, knowing another leader when he saw one.  
  
"Well..." was all Kenshin could say.  
  
"Get up, Sano, you weigh like a couple of sacks of potatoes!"  
  
"You mean you're that puny, squirt?"  
  
"I'm really sorry about all this," Kaoru was saying to Sakura.  
  
"It's no trouble! The others will be glad for some company.  
  
I'm sure I am!"  
  
"So, Sakura, introduce me to your new friends."  
  
Sakura turned on Ichiro. "Where were you a few minutes back?  
  
I thought you said you wanted to doze for a while before dinner?"  
  
"I- uh, well, you see," Ichiro stammered. How was he going to  
  
explain his way out of this? Then inspiration hit him. "I'll tell you  
  
over dinner. Remind me not to stand too close to Jemu-san next time."  
  
A small black bird watched the humans from its perch on a  
  
nearby tree. It listened as they exchanged names, then flew on top of  
  
the roof of the Imperial theater, where it changed into Jemu  
  
again. "That was a lot of work back there. But, all's well that ends-"  
  
He never got to finish the cliche. A shot from a pistol rang  
  
out, sending him spinning off the edge and hurtling to the ground.  
  
The last words he heard were tinged with a weird Italian  
  
accent, "Bene, Maria-san, you got the strangero."  
  
His last thought before blacking out from the pain was, "John  
  
Biles never had this happen to him." 


End file.
